Generation Breakers: Imposition
by Sinead Rivka
Summary: .:Movieverse:. .:Story Two:. Raevyn's been brought deeper into the brotherhood that is the Autobot group, learning under Ratchet's careful eye. Only now, Sam's got a problem and she and Jazz have to travel to California to help him with it. Eventual SamOC
1. Chapter One

Generation Breakers: Imposition  
By Sinead

Chapter Seven  
Relevant Song: Jewel "The New Wild West"

.o.O.o.

Jazz stared up at the night sky, laying upon his back with one hand behind his head. The solitude he felt was something so sweet. Sweet, but scary. There was some kind of insecurity that he felt whenever he was alone from any kind of company, whether Autobot or human. The other Autobots could and would leave an internal communications link so that he could at least feel their presence, if not outright talk with them. Bumblebee especially had the gift of Cybertronian humming and crooning, something that he had missed being able to do in all those eons since being rendered mute.

Oh . . . yes, it truly was unmistakable, Raevyn's walk. She moved so differently than how he and the others did, even than how the other humans walked. Turning his head, he watched her as she walked up to him, kissed his brow, and then climbed onto his chest. She curled up on her side, her ear perfectly parallel with his Spark. Curling his free hand over and around her, Jazz just couldn't find it in him to share the sound of his Spark with her. Fear had caught up with him again. He couldn't even calm his mind enough to find a song to help dispel the rest of his worry. The mental anguish was beginning to become too much, even for _him_. "What happened to me?"

"When, gorgeous?"

"When I came back."

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

They stayed silent for a long moment, Raevyn trying to help Jazz calm himself down, to help him put himself at ease. Finally, Raevyn just began humming, then singing, an old, soothing song that she had learned. She didn't know if it would help him or not, only that it would do something to calm her own mind and emotions. She certainly didn't expect a bass rumble to drift up and harmonize with her. Sometimes it fell back, uncertain . . . sometimes it was stronger than her own voice, almost drowning her out. Repeating the chorus one last time, Raevyn sighed and whispered, "Darlin', haven't you asked about it?"

Calmed so that he was able to play songs in the back of his mind again, Jazz shook his head. "How could I? Ratchet's damn prickly about Spark issues, and Prime . . ."

"You can talk to to him about anything, and you know it." Rubbing her cheek against his warm metal chest, Raevyn sighed. "But I want to be there to hear what really happened."

"Babe, they couldn't pry you away from me if I wanted you there to stand aside me. I would never let 'em exclude you from knowing that kind of information." He tried to smile for her, but it faltered, causing the Autobot to sigh again. "I . . . I don't know if I really wanna know about it, Hawkeye."

"Do you want to keep feeling this way?" she asked quickly, raising her head to look at him, pushing up his visor to see his optics clearly.

His voice was soft, truthful. "No."

"Then I'll be there to lend you strength. C'mon . . . let's go."

All Jazz could think of was that it was almost funny to hear a human offer to lend strength to a being that was over twice her height, and many times more than her mass.

.o.O.o.

He was resting, still recharging from the massive output of energy he had put out in his recent endeavors. It had been well worth it . . . now that Jazz was back.

Activating his optics, the Autobot leader looked down with a smile, welcoming Jazz and Raevyn silently. He had been sitting, arms propped up on his knees, with his head tilted back and optics off, his face aimed at the star-strewn sky. Silently, Jazz walked up to one of the first individuals who had ever been able to truly befriend him and earn his complete trust. He sat beside the large Autobot, causing Raevyn to move herself from her perch upon his shoulder to the cradle of his arms. She sat within them, leaning her back against his chest comfortably, watching Prime with a look of intense curiosity. It took Jazz some time to get the words out.

"How . . . was I brought back, Optimus?"

Sighing, Prime looked up at the sky again. His voice was gentle, reassuring. "I was worried that you might never wish to know, Jazz. And I'm relieved that you are getting over your fear." Taking his time in answering, thinking over his words carefully, he looked back a the duo slowly, as if time were of no matter. Which was indeed true for the Autobots. When he spoke it was with gravity. "Jazz, I do know that you remember what Megatron did to you."

"Y-yeah. And I remember dying." Jazz's gaze was never off of his leader's face, even though it had faltered, flickered, and gone out in an attempt to block the memory.

"Your Spark did indeed leave for the Matrix. And with the help and advice from the Primes before me, I was able to petition for your return." The head lowered slightly. "I am honored that you wished to come back."

"Did I say as much?"

"Yes . . . and you knew that you would not be able to remember the time you spent within the Matrix until you were ready to return to it. I asked you what you wished to do. I did not ask you if you wanted to stay or return, as it would have shown a bias upon my behalf. That would not have been fair to you, as it could have pressured you to either stay or return." Pausing, Optimus shook his head. "I wished for you to decide for yourself what the next step of your existence was to be."

Jazz sighed, accepting this. "And I wanted to come back."

"You felt that you had something else to do . . ."

"I would have said that you needed help keeping the others from killing each other and getting too serious. I have a job to do in absence of the twins. You know of the promise they made me make."

"To prank and to cause trouble, all the while keeping a watch over us with the same level of ferocity that they portray," Optimus chuckled, watching as Raevyn shifted slightly, causing Jazz to move without thinking about it, his arms shifting to create a more comfortable seat for her.

After a long moment where nothing was said, Jazz asked, "D'you think that we'll see the others soon?"

"If I were to rely upon my own instincts and feelings, then yes, Jazz. I do believe so." A smirk was in the leader's voice as he turned to look down at his first lieutenant. "You just wish to get into trouble with the twins."

"Well, can you expect me to be so responsible as to turn down the chance to cause trouble with . . . slag, I can't even begin to wonder what he would be calling himself when he gets his rusty aft here." Jazz began perking up again, and in the brief glance that Raevyn and Optimus shared, each saw the other's spirits rise with the small Autobot's gradual recovery and acceptance of the answer he had been given. "Man! Trouble! I almost forget what it's like to get a lecture from you about responsibility."

.o.O.o.

"He _what_?"

"Got dumped." Jazz sighed. Sam had begun really picking up on the mechanical traits that everyone had seen lying dormant within him, and was spending more time with Bumblebee and Ratchet, learning more about their basic anatomy. He was still so many levels behind Raevyn that it was like teaching her all over again, so Ratchet was grateful for the practice of teaching. Jazz "stretched" his neck, a motion that he had picked up from the humans and found to be beneficial, relaxing the hydraulics and muscle-like cords that held his head above his shoulders. "Apparently, Mikayla didn't like th' fact that he didn't even tell 'er that he was travelin' out here. Among other things."

Raevyn pulled her arms out from under the armor-plating over Jazz's back, peering into the area he had opened up for her to do some general maintenance upon. "So she dumped him for something so trivial."

"Well . . . it ain't the first time that he's gone and done something without telling her."

"He's what, eighteen?"

"Yeah, fresh into th' first stage of adulthood as you humans mark it."

Raevyn shrugged, not quite seeing the problem "So he's an impulsive young man. All my guy friends around here have that kind of problem. They want something, run to go get it, and then find out they totally forgot to let someone know."

Sighing, Jazz shook his head, looking over his shoulder at his human. "I want to go out there and make sure he's doing all right."

"Just keep yourself parked for a moment longer until I get everything reattached, okay? Then I'll go pack a bag and talk to Dad." She ducked her head and shoulders back under the armor he had lifted, hands working with swift, sure movements.

"Not your mother?" The Autobot's voice echoed around her head, causing her to smile as he let down the dampening field around his Spark.

Looking up at the chamber, seeing it barely an arm's length away, she tapped what consisted of a piece of his skeletal structure with a screwdriver, knowing that it wouldn't harm or hurt him. "Don't tease, Jazz, you know that she hates it when you and I take off."

"At least we're gonna make better time than if you had taken off on your own and had to stop driving to sleep."

Pausing, she looked heavenward for patience. "You want me to pull a Ratchet on you?"

"No, thanks. I'd like to keep both of my antennas."

"I'd take your _hand_."

"Need that, too. It's vital t' my manly existence."

". . . you're sick."

"Twisted, yeah. But'cha know what I mean."

"Yeah. You need it to make a fist and beat the crap outta Bumblebee."

"That's right. Ooh! Ooooooh. I don' know what ya just did, but _wow_. Woooow. Mmmm, felt good."

"This is what you can learn from Ratchet and yet don't want to. Hush. I've got to depressurize the other hydraulic tank in your shoulder a bit, and that requires you to keep still."

"Hey, babe, can I bring ya on a joyride once this is done?"

"Sure, schoolboy. And we'll go all the way to California."

"Awesoooo . . . ooooohh . . . do that again, please? _Wow_."

.o.O.o.

"I can't believe that I was such an idiot . . . God!" Sam stormed into the large warehouse-style former aircraft hangar that the Autobots had claimed on their "estate" as their building of operations. He continued to rant, Bumblebee transforming beside him and lifting his chin in greeting to those around them. He was angered, and that only strengthened his disinclination to talk, allowing Sam to do the complaining for both of them. "I mean, seriously! She's just like Miles said, the evil jock concubine! Dammit!" Kicking a bucket across the concrete floor, he growled some other nasty things about his now-ex-girlfriend.

Raevyn watched with a calm, nonjudgmental eye. Jazz was right to want to come here, even if because of how Bumblebee looked about ready to do something drastic. For the gentle bot, violence was only a necessity during wartime. However, what _did_ shock the woman mechanic was that two more humans walked in. One was a birdlike woman, and the moment she heard the words coming out of Sam's mouth, she looked like she had been slapped. The other, seemingly her husband, only cocked an eyebrow at his son as he shut the human-sized door.

"I can't believe that she did that to me!"

"Sam, are you and Mikayla mated for all of life?" Optimus crouched, looking at his young human friend with a curious gaze. He had to end this ranting soon, otherwise he feared that it would drive Bumblebee to actually _take_ the actions he was thinking about.

"What? No!"

"Then she is allowed to leave, is she not?"

"Optimus, I'm not angry that she chose to leave me! I'm angry about--" He caught sight of his parents, growled inarticulately, and muttered, "I'll tell you later."

The birdlike woman, obviously his mother, recovered from her shock long to plant her fists upon her hips, glaring death at him. "Samuel James, if you think that you're going to get away with _that_ kind of language, you are sorely wrong, mister!"

Raevyn walked out through the Autobots, seemingly able to materialize from their metal flesh as if she were one of them. The father stared at her in only a slightly shocked manner, seeming to have gotten used to the mannerisms of those who reside around aliens. Unlike her hubby, the wife was thrust further into shock. The young woman's smile was welcome and ready. "I guess that I'm to understand that you are Mister and Missus Witwicky."

"Sam, did you _cheat_ on Mikayla?" the mother asked, horrified.

"God, Mom! No!"

But Raevyn, laughing, shook her head, reaching out to slap the young man's shoulder in a manner that was friendly, nothing more. No overtures of any hidden wants or lusts. "Trust me! If Spike had even _tried_ to cheat on his ex-girlfriend with me, I would have done something to him that would have made _Ratchet_ wince in horror."

"You are a bloody-minded young woman. It is no wonder that you can't deal with your human medical wards." Ratchet reached down to scoop her up, tossing her into the air and catching her carefully. His smile was in his voice, if not upon his face. "I feel that you are ready for some tests upon the subject matter of lubricant pumps and the first levels of understanding the neural processor we possess."

"You bet!"

"So, wait a second here," the father said, pointing up at her. "Who are you?"

"Raevyn Hawkeye Starwalker. And yes, that's my real name. I'm Jazz's partner, and Ratchet's student. For the moment." She spun out of Ratchet's loose hold upon her, using his arms and his momentum to catch her to get onto his back, settling herself so that she peered over his shoulder with a grin. The action caused him to grumble in his native tongue.

Ironhide barked a laugh, pointing to her with a flicked hand as he leaned over Bumblebee's shoulders in a a friendly manner. "You learned that from Jazz!"

Laughing, Raevyn looked up at him with a bright grin. "You bet I did. Us small critters have to learn how to fight effectively, don't you think?"

"All right, calm down now, everyone," Ron Witwicky said, walking a few steps forward. He looked up to Raevyn. "So you're here to learn from Ratchet?"

"Yeap."

"So that means that you're the young lady from Massachusetts."

"Yeap."

"Then why didn't you come here in the first place to teach Sam?"

Ratchet reached over his shoulder at her thoughtful silence, plucking her off of him and setting her down so very gently. Yet the moment he set her down, Bumblebee picked her up, resting her against his cheek to say almost so quietly it was lost in the sounds of metal moving, "He needs a companion . . . human, opposite gender, and someone safe. I only ask you because I know you are able to be a friend to him before you could even begin to think of being something else with him."

"You know my stance upon love right now, Bumbles."

"I do. And I hope that you will just let him talk to you, if nothing else."

Smiling, she nodded against his metal cheek. "I'll be his friend, but I can't promise anything else."

"That is all I ask. Friendship means more to some than a lifelong vow." He set her down after one more quick nuzzle, which elicited a growl from Jazz.

"Keep y'r hands offa my girl."

Raevyn seemed to be the one to clamber all over the large metal beings on this particular day as she launched herself up to be caught and sat upon one of Jazz's shoulders. Lowering her head, she whispered into his audio, "He just asked me for a favor concerning Spike."

"I know. I heard him. I'm just giving him a hard time. Besides, the other humans didn't hear him, and only saw the actions." Winking, Jazz set her down again, pushing her forward gently so that she was within reaching distance of Ron. "Now answer his question."

She held her hand out, and he gripped it, formally sealing the introductions between the two. Her face was radiant with a smile. "Yes, I'm here to learn from Ratchet. When Spi . . . uh . . . When Sam went out to Massachusetts a while back, it was to retrieve Bumblebee, who had come to me to get his engine cleaned and for me to learn a bit about his physiology while he's in robot mode. As you should know, there was plenty of supervision, as all of the Autobots were able to look in and see what I was learning, and what I was also teaching."

"Her small hands are exactly what I need to do some regular maintenance jobs that usually would take quite a bit of effort upon my behalf." Ratchet gave the impression of cracking his knuckles, to which a grin accompanied the action. "Meaning . . . for some things that are now nothing more than asking an Autobot to remove a section of armor plating and stretch in a certain direction, they had been once a procedure that took up most of my day, starting with partially deactivating the bot and then opening them up, half-pulling their chest apart."

Ironhide, Bumblebee and Jazz all groaned at the memories of said procedures. Optimus merely looked at a screen that showed the results from long-range scanners. Sighing, he shut his optics off, picturing each visage of his other sub-commanders, the ones he had given charge of protecting and guiding and fighting with the other Autobots. They were stern, all of them, but at the same time, they were all compassionate. Each of them . . . so very unique in their own ways, in their own styles. He missed all of them. He missed Prowl and Trailbreaker . . . they had a way of helping him keep everyone in line, without actually suppressing or "rubbing them the wrong way," as the humans put it.

"Prime?"

Blinking, he looked down at Raevyn. She had walked over to him to get his attention. His voice was contrite. "I apologize . . . I was lost in my thoughts."

She smiled and rested her hand upon his leg, nodding. He had confided in her that there were more Autobots coming, but that even _he_ didn't know when. It had been so long since they had dared to contact one another for fear that the Decepticons would track them down and decimate their already-meager numbers. Raevyn's voice was soft, meant for the Autobots to hear and for the humans not to. "I'm going home with Spike's parents. If you need me, Jazz will be coming with us. I'll be 'working' on Bumblebee for a short while. He needs to rant to someone, and Jazz volunteered."

"Thank the Matrix," Prime breathed, relief again spreading through him. It was good to have Jazz around to help keep tempers in check, and fortunate that when Jazz's temper was rising, all that needed to keep him in line were a few words from Optimus, usually accompanied by the order to go out on a recon mission to bleed off some of his anger. "How long will you be staying with them?"

"Considering that I now have a 'company card' from Secretary Keller's office, as long as you need me. Government's just started putting me on their payroll as the secondary ambassador to your unique embassy. That and I'm getting a bonus for learning how to keep you guys alive. They figure that what I'm learning is also important enough to pay me more and keep the area around my house under strict surveillance." She shrugged, then motioned towards the parents again. "As for the parents, I'll win them over, no problem. But I'll be taking care of Bumblebee first. He's my priority."

"Not even Sam?"

"I take my duty seriously, Optimus. Keeping _your_ comrades in good working condition, both physically and mentally, is my job." The golden eyes were serious and tender at the same time. It was in them that he read that she wanted to keep _him_ among the list of those who could come to her to just talk. To just _be_. To not have to hold up to any expectations, or to come to her when one needed her to break down, able to save face around those who they fought beside.

"I understand. Contact me through Jazz when everything is settled."

Nodding, she turned around just in time to see Bumblebee transform with angry movements. Sam got into the driver's seat, and they took off through the still-open doors. Jazz cussed. "They're not goin' home. I know that body language that Bee's usin'."

"Then what're you doing standing there for?!" Raevyn hissed, walking up to him quickly. "Let's follow 'em!"

"Can you convince him to get home by eleven?" Judy asked, raising her voice of the sounds of metal shifting in a hurry. "Because he _will_ be grounded. This was one of the nights that he said he would be staying at our place."

"I can't promise anything, Mrs. Witwicky," replied the young woman as she opened Jazz's door and hopped in, "but I can tell you this: He's always safe around the Autobots. You don't have to worry about him when he's around Bumbles." Shutting his door, she gripped the wheel, his seatbelt moving of its own accord to wrap around her. Once Ironhide pushed the door completely open again, Raevyn gripped the wheel and floored the gas pedal, peeling out. They shot out of the refurbished hangar, effortlessly driving through the night, disappearing into the darkness surprisingly quickly for a silvery-colored car.

Prime smiled out after them before looking to a positively glowing Ratchet. The medic made a "hmph!" noise before settling himself against a thick concrete pillar in a corner. Shifting his gaze to the worried parents, he reassured them. "He will be home tonight, I promise you. Raevyn and Jazz are as good and as intuitive a team as Sam and Bumblebee are. But please be lenient upon the curfew time."

Ron, sighing and shaking his head, replied, "I don't know about her. I don't know where she came from, or where she's going . . . I don't even know what she does!"

"Rest assured, Mr. Witwicky, that _I_ do," Ratchet replied quietly, watching Ironhide turn from the open door, close it with a casual push with his foot, then back himself into a corner, sitting and curling his arms around his torso, his legs halfway pulled up, his head drooping slightly as he fell into a recharge cycle. Glad that the old warrior was able to let his guard down even that fraction of a bit, Ratchet sighed. "Allow me to tell you about my student, and a very good friend of mine. Come, sit, and rest."


	2. Chapter Two

Generation Breakers: Imposition  
By Sinead

Chapter Eight  
Relevant Song: Good Charlotte "Misery"

.o.O.o.

Bumblebee was speeding as fast as he could, completely in control of his own movements. Mindful of Sam's hands on the wheel, gripping but not truly steering, he made slight indications before he turned, flashing the dashboard indicator in the chosen direction before activating the rear indicator lights. He kept his radio off, unable to discern what emotional state the human was in. Whatever his true feelings, Sam was angry, he was crying, he was grim and dead set against listening to anyone or anything.

Pulling into the same area that he and Sam had first exchanged "words," he stopped directly upon the same bank, deliberately placing himself so that the young man stared out over the compound, facing where he had once walked from, having defeated Frenzy.

"Not here, Bumblebee." Sam closed his eyes. "Not here." He found himself shaken out of the seat, dumped gently upon the ground. "Hey!" Seeing his friend transforming, he blinked, then saw Bumblebee sit beside him, watching him with the baby blue optics that seemed far more intense than the other Autobots'. "Why'd you bring me here?"

Taking his time in answering, Bumblebee finally said in a soft voice, "Because it was the beginning. The beginning of our friendship, and the beginning of the path you now are walking upon."

"It was with Mikayla, and right now, I don't want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about _your_ view of the journey, but the part that _I_, personally, beheld."

Stopping mid-rant, Sam looked up at Bumblebee, seeing how the bot stared at him with a level gaze. "I did not intend for you to see me that first night, and I tried dissuading you from following me. I honestly didn't want you to follow where I was going, and knew that you weren't truly ready to see me as I am." His optics seemed to smile as he whispered, "You dealt with it so well, so able to adapt and intuit the true nature of my kind. You chose your path with such a wise manner . . . calm and level-headed. I am so proud of you, little brother. For all your actions, for your every single word . . ."

Sam looked up at his Autobot. That was the most that he had ever said since they had met. "Bumblebee . . . why did you try to get me and Mikayla together in the first place?"

Chuckling, Bumblebee rested his hand behind his young friend's back, there to support him if he felt like leaning against the larger being. "You have the car. Now you need the girl."

"That was it?" Slowly, cautiously, needing the care and comfort but at the same time feeling that he wasn't truly "man enough" to deal with this persistent ache in his chest that had started when Mikayla had bluntly said, "We're over. I don't know what I had ever seen in you in the first place."

Pausing, Bumblebee thought about it for a moment, then replied in a brazen, honest manner, "Basically. Even if it was rushing the deal."

"Are you still trying to set me up with a girl?"

Not answering him, Bumblebee looked down the embankment, falling silent again. He still didn't like talking for long periods of time, and it almost felt as if he were over-exerting his vocal processor. But that was a lie, since he really couldn't technically or physically do that. Honestly . . . look at any of the other Autobots. They talked for hours on end with no damage. Well, not any self-inflicted damage, anyway. Damaged incurred to them by others was made in the effort to shut them up. Take Blurr or Perceptor, for instance, and then no more explanations would have to be made.

Knowing that no more wisdom or insight would be coming from Bumblebee, Sam, too, looked down the slope. Immediately, his guard went back up and he bristled. Starting to stand, he was partially shocked when the yellow and black Autobot gently kept him sitting, resting fingertips upon his shoulders.

Jazz and Raevyn were silently making their way up to the pair, and just as silently placed themselves opposite to the other of their own species, sitting. Raevyn took the initiative in talking. "What wouldn't you say about Mikayla in front of your parents?"

"You don't have any right to know," Sam snapped back, eyes narrowing in his anger that she would bring that up without even a greeting. What had happened to the manners of those who lived on the Northeast Coastline?!

"Yeah, you're right. It's none of my business." She leaned in, her face concerned. "But Sam, it just _became_ my business. What happened between you and her is affecting and _effecting_ the way that the Autobots are even _standing_ around you. Only Bumblebee is able to offset the emotions you're giving off without being _completely_ confused as to where you're coming from."

"So how does that whole psycho-babble got anything to do with me?"

Raevyn's eyes closed, and with a sigh, she opened them, answering, "Because I care about you. It's the same type of caring that I look at the Autobots with. They're family to me, siblings, uncles, and a second father. To not be able to help them with anything that they're feeling . . . to know that I can help them but not have any way of explaining to them that I want to help . . ." She looked up at Bumblebee, and he nodded, giving her permission to tell his human that she knew about what had happened. "You know the pain of not being able to communicate freely with Bumblebee. You know the pain of seeing _his_ pain. The torture of watching a friend being tortured."

"_Don't_ think that you can equate _anything_ you've lived through with that!" Jumping to his feet, the young man looked up at his car. "We're going."

"No . . ." Bumblebee said gently, the word as final as if Prime had said it. "Sit and listen to her."

"Why should I?"

"Because I want to help you," she answered softly, watching him. "What happened between you and Mikayla?"

"She got in bed with me, we fooled around, she decided that she didn't want to stay in a relationship with an idiot who didn't even know about what to do with a girl, and left. Happy?" He was fuming, and even in the dim lighting, Raevyn could see his cheeks lighting up in a furious blush.

"Did she tell you this?"

"Yeah, as she was throwing a book at my head, too!"

Raevyn stood, resting her hand upon his shoulder, her voice low and kind. "Sam. Spike. If she was a smart and truly caring young woman, she would have waited the initial fumbling out before making a decision."

"And you would know, wouldn't you," he snarled into her face.

"No, actually, I wouldn't," the older of the two replied with a sheepish smile. "Kinda never been with anyone. Never had the chance. Well, honestly . . . I've had the chance, but not the inclination. But what she did . . . I would _never_ do if the situation arose."

Jazz and Bumblebee shared a look, quickly speaking upon a frequency that the humans wouldn't be able to hear them on. Bumblebee spoke first. _"Do you think that it would be good for them to be paired? Even if it was for a short-term commitment?"_

The smaller of the two, if older, replied, _"I dunno. I hope so. I want so much f'r Raevyn t' experience live and love . . . even if it means that she distances herself from me for a time. I might not like it, but it'd be necessary. She's human, an' th' longer she puts off her own needs, I fear that she won't be able t' recognize them in the future."_

_"The humans have a thing for accidental conception."_

_"All life is sacred, Bumblebee. If there __is__ an accident, I will advocate that the life be kept. __And__ I will have Ratchet back me up on it."_

_"You needn't worry about Ratchet backing you up,"_ Bumblebee said swiftly. _"Prime himself would argue for the child to be born, even if she would decide to foster the infant with a family in need."_

Pausing for the briefest of milliseconds, Jazz then gave a twitch of his head, which acted as a nod. _"This is going too far ahead into a future that just ain't set. In any case, I just want for her t' be happy. And for Sam, too. The boy's a treasure an' a wonderful person."_

_"I agree . . . You heard my words."_

_"How could I miss 'em? He really is a brother to you. I'm glad."_

Ending the brief conversation, they looked down at the humans again, seeing Sam's emotional barrier finally crumble as he tried turning away from Raevyn. She just wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace and just holding him. In return, Sam clung to her as if she were the last lifeline that had been tossed to him. His sobs were quiet, ashamed. Men didn't cry . . . not like this. Not over a broken heart, not over someone who got something he didn't truly think that he had been ready to give away.

They stayed there for hours, not saying much else on the matter, just comforting the heartbroken young man.

.o.O.o.

Jazz rolled into the Witwicky household driveway, both seats empty. Quickly scanning to see if anyone was watching, he transformed when the coast was deemed clear. Walking around to the back, he saw Bumblebee in the alleyway. Ron was walking out to look up at him. "Where's my boy?"

"Asleep." Jazz gave the impression of smiling, and he lowered his voice so that Raevyn, who was sitting in Bumblebee, wouldn't hear him and tell Sam that his parents had been told. "He and Mikayla had relations . . . and she left him with that being one of the last things she said to him: that she didn't want to date a novice."

Ron winced hard, then ran his hand through thinning hair. "So that's why he was so upset about it. What about Raevyn? You're her guardian, right?"

"In a sense."

"So why did you and her go after Sam if he has Bumblebee?"

Pausing, Jazz found a way to tell the man of the plans that he and Bumblebee were concocting. "Mikayla didn't have much in th' way t' understand Sam. She didn't have one of us t' watch over her every move, keepin' 'er safe, being there to just talk to. We're an odd sort of friend, unique in that we ain't human, but can understand humans sometimes a bit better than they can."

"Can I ask why you think that you can?" As long as Ron knew that his son was all right, safe, and with his car, then there wasn't much else that he needed to worry about. He wanted to understand these beings.

Jazz chuckled, leaning in. "You, in comparison to my _own_ age, are barely a day-old infant. We live for eons, millennia. In all of our travels, we've come across cultures that we needed t' understand within moments in order to negotiate. That's my specialty. I get all the information upon a culture that I can. I relate the best to new cultures, and have a shorter learning curve in that regard than the other Autobots."

"So this all means what? How's that got anything to do with my son?"

Smiling at the impatience of the human species in general, the Autobot just replied, "I knew that he'd need someone who could understand _him_ completely. Raevyn had come onto our team to be my partner. You know what had happened to me in the last battle. That's caused me more mental stress than I care to admit, but she was there to help me, to understand me. Her nature is to understand and then act upon that understanding to help people."

"You're setting her up with Sam."

"Aah, _kinda_. Bumblebee made a mistake with Mikayla, an' I'll leave that up t' him t' tell ya. But right now, we all figured that Sam needed someone who understood 'im better than anyone else."

"So who better to help him than someone who has an Autobot partner."

"Exactly."

"You want them to be a couple?"

"Not if they don't want it. Bee and I are hopin' that they decide to be firm friends, if nothing else."

Ron Witwicky nodded, accepting all this with grace. "All right, then. Where's my son?"

Jazz walked over to the fence that separated the backyard and the alley, stepping over it to see Raevyn having opened the window, and Bumblebee giving off a slightly-guilty air. Jazz shrugged, then said, "C'mon, then, babe."

She and Sam had been snuggled together in the passenger seat, with Raevyn keeping Sam from moving around too much in his sleep. As Bumblebee opened the door, she kept a firm grip upon him until Jazz carefully picked him up, holding him like a child, and stepped over the fence again. "He's asleep. Worn himself out with 'is emotions."

Ron nodded, understanding. When Bumblebee walked over the fence with Raevyn sitting in his hands, the father looked up to her, then to Bumblebee, his voice soft. "Thank you for being there for him."

"He's not out in the clear yet," Raevyn replied as Bumblebee walked over to Sam's room window, opening it and carefully ushering her in. She looked down at the father, who walked closer to the house, his face concerned. "He's gonna be down and more than a bit depressed for a while. I've been the comforter through other guy friends when this happened to them."

"Will you be here for Sam, too?" Ron asked as she received the sleeping young man through the window, her strength belying her size as she piggy-back-half-dragged Sam to his bed, turning to sit him down first, and almost ending up on his lap in the process. Carefully laying him down, knowing that the two bots were still watching her, she took his shoes and socks off, then after a small bit of debating, took his sweatshirt off as well, leaving him in his jeans and an old and worn t-shirt. Pulling the sheets over him, Raevyn rested a hand on his brow, sighing. She heard Ron's voice closer, much softer. "Will you?"

Turning to look at the door, she nodded, sighing. "Yes. Until he wants me gone, or until I have to return home, in which case he's more than welcome to come with me and Jazz."

"We've a guest room. Please . . . stay the night. I'll talk with Judy about this."

Nodding, graciously accepting this, Raevyn replied, "I also have to give Bumblebee a regular cleaning and a few fluid-flushings, and I'm not used to this time zone . . . I should be up before you. If you hear cursing in your garage, don't worry about it. It's just me having an argument with him."

Smiling, Ron left the room with Raevyn behind him, opening the guest room door so that she may have a look in. "Here you go. I'll see you in the morning."

"Thank you. Good night." Walking into the room, she closed the door to look up and see Jazz watching her. Smiling, she walked over to him and opened the pane to touch his face lightly. "Hey. Go to sleep."

"Naah, wanted to make sure that ya got settled in first." He rested his hand upon the windowsill, indicating with a jerk of his chin towards Sam's room. "He doin' okay?"

Raevyn sighed, then nodded. "He will be. Now you get rest. You just screamed across the country with me in three days flat. Don't say that you don't need to recharge, because I will then tell you that you're lying, and I'll get Ratchet to beat your sorry . . . what's the word you guys use . . ."

"Skidplate."

"Yeah. That."

Chuckling, Jazz reached up to flip some hair out of her face with a gentle finger. "Go to sleep. We've got a long few days ahead of us."

Smiling, nodding, she watched him turn and walk off, transforming to roll forward until his grill was inches from Bumblebee's. As Raevyn turned and pulled the sheer curtains closed, leaving the window open to let the cool night air drift in, she knew that she would be able to tell her Autobot anything and everything that was on her mind. But there was only one thing she could never tell Jazz.

And it would be the one thing that could well break him.


	3. Chapter Three

Generation Breakers: Imposition  
By Sinead

Chapter Three  
Relevant Song: Stan Bush "Over You"

.o.O.o.

_**Author's Note:** Sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've been preparing for college, and been just behind in everything in the Transformers department while my long-dormant TMNT fangirldom has resurfaced. Figures. But then again, I've got a really great Michelangelo pic out of the deal, and with colored pencils, too! Better not rant about it while my scanner refuses to work, though . . . Anyway, here are the next two chapters! Sorry for the wait!  
_

.o.O.o.

Sam groaned, rolling over in his bed to look up at the ceiling. With a sigh, he remembered the events of the night before. And as he rubbed at his face and then stretched, he realized that he was still in the clothes that he had worn yesterday, only now his shoes, socks, and sweatshirt were missing. But how could they have . . .

Naw. She . . . naw . . .

"Sam! Wake up! Breakfast!"

Levering himself into a sitting position, head still foggy from sleep, the young man stared over to see his shoes and socks in a pile on the floor, and the sweatshirt slung over his desk chair. Not exactly something that he expected a girl to do, he just wrote it down to his own exhaustion that he didn't remember taking the articles of clothing off. The young man made his way down to the kitchen, itching at his short hair sleepily. Mojo was barking insanely, and he groaned again at the sharp, irritating noises. Cracking one eye open slightly wider in the bright room, he saw Raevyn staring down at the still-barking dog with a look of contempt upon her face. It almost rivaled the look of utter and total disgust Ironhide had given to the same dog almost a year before.

Turning back to her food with a sigh of suffering, Raevyn saw Sam and raised her fork in greeting. "I smell like the 'bots. Good morning."

"Why are you here?" he asked groggily, confused as to why she would be at his place so early in the morning. Glancing at the large clock upon one wall, he blinked and mentally amended that it wasn't quite that early in the morning. It was actually mid-morning, almost ten.

"Now, Sam, that's not any way to talk to a young lady!" Judy bustled about, serving up waffles, scrambled eggs, and sausages. She set the plate down on the island in the middle of the kitchen, deliberately placing it so that he would be across from the young woman when he sat down. Cups of orange juice and milk already sat at the place setting. "Raevyn's our guest for a while."

"Just until I can get a room at the hotel downtown," Raevyn clarified, glancing up at him. Her voice held a small smile within it. "So are you up for helping me clean out Bumblebee's fuel injection system after you eat?"

"Should I shower first?"

"You do, and he'll just be a pest and find a way to get you even dirtier than before you had the shower."

Yawning, then grunting again in reply to that, Sam sat and dug into the food his mother had prepared for them. As he bent his head, he missed the silent "thank you" his mother gave to the younger woman. Raevyn stood with a smile, shaking her head as a "don't worry about it" gesture. "Thank you so much for the breakfast, Mrs. Wit icky. I haven't had something like this in years."

"Poor thing, with your mother tied up with her job at the government . . ."

"Mom could burn a salad!" The mechanic laughed, smiling in a lopsided fashion. "Nah, it was Dad that had the cooking skills. But since--"

"Babe! Bumblebee's gettin' itchy t' do something! You and Sam're the only ones who c'n keep 'im from boltin' off!" Jazz's voice echoed out through the yard from the garage.

Mojo snarled.

"I'm comin'!" Raevyn yelled out through the open kitchen window. She looked at Sam with a gentle smile. "We've been out to get some supplies at an auto store. I'm flushing and changing their oil after we're done with some basic maintenance."

"You know that he's gonna send Hell coming after you during the procedure," Sam said through a mouthful of waffles and orange juice.

"Which one?" Raevyn said in a weary tone. "Because Jazz would so do the same, if only to annoy me."

Finishing off the last of his eggs, Sam walked back up to his room to shove some shoes on. When he came back down, he was surprised to see Raevyn outside the back door, waiting for him. He took the opportunity to ask her, "Did you . . . I mean . . . did I fall asleep on you last night?"

Chuckling, Raevyn nodded. "Yeah. It was cute. don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"That's not my worry. what I worried about is . . . well . . ."

"I'm just a friend," came the calm, slow response. "And you don't think of me as anything else. I know. Spike, you heard what I told Jazz when you came up to start learning about how to move around in an engine. I just don't have the time or the inclination for a relationship right now."

Sam was quick to pick up on her facial expressions. "So why are you so sad about saying something like that?"

Coming up sharply, staring at him, she bit her lip and shook her head. "Not now." Flicking her eyes towards to the cars waiting for them, Raevyn looked back at the young man evenly, hoping that he would get the message.

He nodded, understanding that it was something to be discussed in private.

They got to this job with actions that were, to Sam, uninterrupted by hesitation and filled with purpose. He glance at the young woman beside him, pausing his hands as the first notes of two fantastic sound systems, one from each of the Autobots, began to fill the air. Surprisingly, it was a song that wasn't at all suggestive at face value. But it was old, older than Sam, maybe even older than Raevyn. Sam just kept watching her hands, memorizing what she was doing, and where she placed loose objects down. The chorus rang through the air, having a message about how someone had the touch and power to ride through hell, standing in the eye of the storms that life brought you. Raevyn looked up, seeing Sam's eyes on her hands, his gaze not really focused as he lost himself deep in thought. Smiling, ducking her head again, she lost herself in the actions if keeping maintenance on her friend.

.o.O.o.

"I can't believe you dragged me out to a _mall_ to talk."

"There's too many voices here," Raevyn explained as they wove their way through the Saturday Sale throngs of people. "Jazz told me once that when I had gone into a mall to do some shopping, he had panicked when over two hours had gone by without him being able to find my voice." Touching a sheer shirt, feeling the calluses on her hands snag upon the fabric, Raevyn winced, pulling her hand away. She did enjoy dressing nice on occasions, but never seemed to have the chance to do so anymore.

"So that's how you knew where we could talk privately," Sam surmised with a frown. "Under the guise that you needed to show me what tools I need to get."

"And for some clothes, too," came her reply. "remember, we have a formal meeting with some senators and generals about the Autobots at the end of the week."

Sam was impatient to know what it was that she wouldn't say around their dual guardians and friends. "So are you going to answer my question?"

She didn't say a yes or no, instead replying with, "You ever have that feeling where you're staring at just the _perfect_ person . . . and then you know you can't ever be with them?"

Remembering his first feelings for Mikaela, he nodded, noting dryly, "Yeah, _only_ a little. That's what I felt around Mikaela."

"I'm sorry," Raevyn whispered. "I didn't mean to bring that kind of subject up again today."

He ignored that, and tried to ignore the pangs of loneliness and heartbreak. "So you've got someone you want to be with, and you can't touch him, huh?"

"Yeah. He's got almost everything going for him, and I know that there's no way in hell that I could ever be with him."

Sam winced at that. "Social status make you say that?"

"Nope."

"Does he live far away and just won't move?"

"No . . . we're close friends."

"Well, have you told him that you like him? Does he know?" Sam was mystified at this. He thought that only guys could have this trouble. Girls were irresistible, after all. And Raevyn was no exception. From her unbanned skin to her amber eyes to the way her black hair didn't _quite_ curl, to the way she wore the loose and baggy mechanic's clothing on her thin, lithe frame, to how she even _acted_ around the Autobots, as if she had known them all her life . . . Well, to say that she had a great amount of appeal to Sam was pushing the limit of understatement, and he knew it.

"No." She bit her lip. "Well, I don't think so, anyway." Raevyn shook her head, dark hair shimmering around her mid-back and fluttering around her shoulders like a midnight waterfall with the movement. Sam forcefully reminded himself that he was just out of one relationship, and didn't need another to make himself feel better. He glanced at her face, seeing how her usually clear amber eyes were closer to a murky, brown shade as she spoke again. "You really haven't guessed it, have you."

"Assuming that it's not me, no. I still have no--" He stopped dead in his tracks, everything about what she had been saying and her past behavior clicking into place. His movement, or lack thereof, caused Raevyn to stop and turn to gaze at him worriedly. Looking directly into her eyes, he wordlessly pointed back in the direction that they had been walking from.

Shoulders falling slightly, she nodded at his correct assumption. "Jazz. If he had been human . . . or if I was . . ."

His own heart aching, knowing that what she felt must tear her in two every time she was talking with the Autobot who had paired himself with her, Sam took the step closer to rest his hand upon her shoulder, whispering, "And I had thought that I had it worse than you. C'mon. There's a place somewhere in here that's got some great chocolate malts. I know _one_ unbreakable rule about women, and that's the need for anything chocolate when troubled."

Able to conjure up a smile at that, her confession still hard for her to chew, Raevyn followed him wordlessly. The touch he had left upon her shoulder was so very odd. It didn't want to stop burning . . .

"Oh, _not_ good."

"What?"

He jerked his chin for her to look forwards. She did so, frowning, and his voice was low as he said, "Mikaela. The one in the grey button-down shirt."

"Okay. I'll meet you at--"

"No . . . no, just stay within sight, please."

Not asking why, Raevyn answered him by dropping back to look at a kiosk with hand-drawn portraits of celebrities, slowly flipping through them with her head bent. In truth, she was peering through the curtain of hair that had just so happened to fall over her shoulder. She was watching Sam as he shoved his hands in his pockets, head slightly jutted out in a sullen manner. He wasn't going to stop from walking towards the group. He was a fighter, deep down, and he wasn't going to let someone or a group of someones to keep him from getting in his way of where he wanted to go. Silently, Raevyn admired that in him. He didn't give off the air of someone who had that trait within him at first glance.

One of the college girls looked up to see Sam walking towards them, and scoffed, turning to look at Mikaela. "Look, your charity case is here."

Her head snapping up from where they had been looking at expensive jewelry, the gorgeous young woman gave Sam a withering look of deep displeasure. Her voice was cold. "You always said that you hated this mall."

"Yeah, well, I do," he replied, stopping his forward match to firmly stand his ground against her. He lived in the same town, so he had all the same rights as everyone else. "But it doesn't mean that I won't brave the packs of teenyboppers and wannabes to get things that I need from here."

"Did you just call me what I think you did?"

Raevyn, hearing this, winced. That wasn't exactly a good thing for a guy to say to a girl, but then again, Mikaela did seem to have dumped him and gone on to bruise his male ego all in one fell swoop.

His gaze smoldering, Sam replied, "Up for interpretation. If you'll excuse me." Sam moved to walk around the group, but one of the girls stood in his way, leaving him less than a foot between her and the wall.

Raevyn had seen enough. Walking closer, rolling up the short sleeves of the grey Dickie's shirt that had seen better days so that they were resting above her toned biceps, she fairly biffed Sam on the back of his head, snapping, "I thought I told you to wait, turd-muffin. Thanks for your fantastic listening skills." Looking up at the group of girls, ignoring his grumblings of pain and whatnot, she paused, then said, "Oh. So who're these valley-girls?"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" one of the pack snarled, angling her head closer.

Raevyn pulled her hair back to tie in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Dude, wow, they even talk like they're low on intelligence. C'mon, you have to get that suit and those new tools or your mom will literally kill me and serve my carcass to your vermin-dog while your old man sells of my car."

Michaela's gaze was harsh upon the newcomer, sizing Raevyn up. in a quick curl of her lip, she indicated towards the still-slightly-grimy state of her clothes. "You're running around in a public, suburban mall in _those_ kinds of clothes?"

"I could say the same of you, Mikaela," Raevyn replied, staring distastefully at the bust-revealing shirt that she had chosen to wear. "And please note for your personal reference this next tidbit of information: I'll have you know that a mutual friend of ours has expressed gratitude that I dress as modestly as I do."

"Who are you kidding?" Mikaela scoffed, glaring at her ex-boyfriend. "_He_ is in no position to speculate upon a chick's clothing. He barely seems to find the time to wash his own."

Sounds of approval at her put-down were made by the small crowd surrounding her. But after a second, she stared hard at Raevyn. "How do you know my name?"

"The same person who commented upon my smart dressing has told me much about you." Leaning in, she whispered, "We sometimes call him by his nickname, the _Jazz_man." Straightening, the Massachusetts native turned with a triumphant smile, seeing the other dark-haired beauty stuck for words. "Later. Spike, dude, c'mon. I face the wrath of the Chihuahua demon if we don't get back in time for dinner."

"Thought that you said you _liked_ dogs," Sam groused as he sent the still-slack-jawed Mikaela another death glare, turning back to follow Raevyn through the crowd of girls who split aside for each of them.

"Not anklebiters. Speaking of which, if he bites me, I'm puntin' th' critter."

.o.O.o.

They got back to the Autobots waiting in the garage, only to see Mikaela standing over Bumblebee, seemingly deep in conversation with him. Well . . . as she turned at the steps walking towards her, it was revealed that she was incised, cheeks scarlet in her anger. "You . . . _you_ were the one he went to visit."

"I'm his teacher in mechanical skills. Nothing more," Raevyn snapped back, walking up to her partner. "Jazz, pop your trunk for me."

As soon as she stuck her head in the limited space behind the seats, he said softly through a speaker, "Bee's not too happy, and he's peeling out the moment Sam's in the car."

"Count me in for another ride," Raevyn muttered in return. "Tell him to go beach-ward."

"Done."

Pulling her head out and closing the small hatch, she saw Mikaela get between Sam and Bumblebee. "I want to know what's going on. And _not_ some excuse."

"You really want to know?" he growled. Pointing to Jazz, he said, "You left for your spring semester when you saw him barely alive again, needing one of _us_, a _human_, to help him re-adjust to _our_ mindset. You didn't even say a _how do you do_ to him before you took off." Moving his hand to point at Bumblebee, he continued. "And forget the guy who helped you make a firm decision for your college life. Oh, I know he's _just a machine_, as you so wonderfully put it, but seriously, okay? At least show discretion if you're gonna slam _his_ ego into the ground!"

"Excuse me?" Raevyn hissed, her voice going silky-soft in her anger. "Did you call him a _machine_? _Just_ a machine? And you had been around them from the beginning? What the hell is your _problem_?" Her hand came down firmly upon Jazz's roof. "You didn't tell me this."

"Didn't want ya t' freak out when you met her," came the too-calm reply. Jazz was beyond furious. "'Specially since I knew you had a temper and a scorn f'r girls like her. I've 'met' your sister, remember."

Glowering, Sam took a step closer to Mikaela. "I'm done with your stupid, snide, _irritating_ remarks about them, okay? I don't care what you say about me, really, I don't. But you _do not_ talk trash about the guys who saved my life _and yours_. And I don't even want to hear about you talking about Raevyn. You really want to know why she's been brought into the group? Talk to Ratchet. If he'll ever talk to _you_ again." Walking around her, he got to Bumblebee's driver's side, the door popping open perfectly in sync with his motions. The items purchased were shoved in the back seat, and he took off, Bumblebee too angry with the young woman to even let Sam pretend to drive.

Jazz's door also opened, but not as angrily as the Camaro's had been. Raevyn paused before sitting, and her voice was still low and silky. "He might not care about how you talk about him, but _I_ do. He's _my_ student, and my friend. Do _not_ disregard my warning, Mikaela. And I don't even want to _hear a rumor _of a rumor that you've trash-taking him or any of the Autobots. Got it?"

Not waiting for the response of the dumbstruck younger woman, the mechanic sat in "her car" and closed the door, buckling in as Jazz took off, following Bumblebee towards the beach.

Mikaela stood in the parking garage gloom, watching after the four beings, finally seeing what she had given up in favor of college, a sorority, and the glamour of living a high life for the first time. What a harsh slap to the face reality was.


	4. Chapter Four

Generation Breakers: Imposition  
By Sinead

Chapter Four  
Relevant Song: Good Charlotte "Victims Of Love"

.o.O.o.

Jazz never caught up with Bumblebee. The Camaro could eat the road faster than any of the other 'bots, with Jazz in second place. He was quiet through the entire ride, until they were off the highway and close to the beach that Raevyn was guessing that Bumblebee had chosen. "He's not in a good frame of mind."

"What kind of frame are we talking about, here?" Raevyn, replied, gripping the steering wheel as she steered around a curve in the road, seeing the unmistakable paint job of their friend.

"The kind where he's both angry and sad."

Sighing, she steered the Solstice into the spot next to Bumblebee, climbing out to mimic Sam, sitting on Jazz's hood. Waiting in the silence, she just studied his face, his eyes, how he would try to keep from raging or crying, succeeding at just the last moment. And then his deep eyes turned towards her, and the young woman just stared back. His voice was thick with carefully-held-in emotions. "You know that she thinks I cheated on her with you."

"I would think the same thing, you know. If it were a normal situation, I would be doing something like she is. But it's not a normal situation. You have Bumbles to keep you honest, and I have Jazz to do the same for me."

"Well, honesty is an opinion, ya know," Jazz rumbled from somewhere underneath the hood. "Regardless, Sam was tellin' the truth about what she did. From what I understand, Ratchet had been rebuildin' my body durin' most of the fall an' some of th' winter. When Mikaela came back, Optimus had stored enough energy to hazard retrievin' my Spark. It was a big thing that I had been able t' come back . . . an' I vaguely remember her lookin' in on me, then movin' on."

"She said that she thought it was just your shell, even though your optics were lit and you half-raised a hand to wave at her, happy to be back," Sam muttered, staring moodily out over the waves.

"Well, what c'n ya expect from a bot who has t' repower his entire shell from the beginnin'? I didn't even have an energon boost like Sparklin's get." Jazz seemed to give the impression of sighing, resting lower upon his chassis.

Sam rubbed at his face with the heel of his hand, looking to Raevyn and seeing her still watching him. Irritably, he snapped, "What?"

Taking her time answering, Raevyn took the moment of silence between them to gather her thoughts. "You, Samuel Witwicky, are an amazingly strong young man. Don't let her rejection put any blemish upon how much you're actually worth to the people around you. You're a fighter, Sam. Don't let her defeat you. Grow above her, mature faster than her. You're halfway there." Sliding off of Jazz's hood, she rested a hand on Bumblebee's passenger-side rearview mirror. "Hey, gorgeous boy. Lemme in so that I can organize the stuff littering your backseat."

The door opened gratefully, and all fell into a silence as Sam cried out the last of his heartbreak, facing the challenge of learning how to get over a girl on his own. Rising above that challenge, he sighed and lay back against Bee's windshield, looking up at the clouds in the perfect blue sky above them. And with a sigh, he rubbed the last tears off of his face with his sleeve, turning to see Raevyn sitting in the backseat of the Camaro, carefully refolding the clothes she had convinced him to buy and putting them back into their bags. The tools were on the other side of the seat.

Bumblebee rumbled beneath him, and Sam rested his forehead against the windshield before hopping off nimbly and following Raevyn through the passenger door, looking around the folded-down seat. "You really didn't have to do that for me."

"Yes I did," she said with a smile, moving to leave the car. Standing outside Bumblebee, Raevyn was inches from Sam, and she knew it. Her voice lowered. "Because you needed that small bit of care."

He stared down at her with no words to express how much he was thankful for how she was able to seamlessly move from friend to unobstructive mother to what seemed to be almost a lover, and then back to a friend. She confused him . . . but he didn't mind it in the least. She was so easy to be around that he didn't mind how she acted around him. As long as they were able to talk to each other, it was a good relationship.

Oddly . . . he began to wish that he almost _had_ cheated on Mikaela. But it would have only been with Raevyn.

"You ready to get back to the others, Spike?"

No. "Yeah . . . my car or yours?"

Laughing, she gently shoved him into Bumblebee. "You in yours, I in mine, slick."

Grinning back at her, he moved across the center console with the emergency brake to the driver's seat, watching as she ducked into Jazz, letting him pull out on his own as she rested her head back, watching the road through half-lidded eyes.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Bee?"

"I'm sorry if I pushed Mikaela at you too hard."

Sam thumped his hand on Bumblebee's dashboard twice. "Dude, if I was you and there were two kids who were barely containing lust sitting in my seats . . . I'd have fun and do the same to the poor idiots. Come on. Time to go home."

.o.O.o.

As soon as Sam, Bumblebee and Jazz were lounging outside in the afternoon heat, discussing things that had to do with before she had come into their unique fold, the young mechanic walked into the emptied warehouse that served as a shelter for the Autobots in inclement weather and when they needed to talk among themselves and not be overheard.

Ratchet welcomed Raevyn back by picking her up to sit on his shoulder, waiting until she had decent handholds and balance enough before moving to a cross-legged Prime. "This is a lesson that you alone can learn for now. It is not for Sam to hear of, or something that he will be able to understand as of right now. Jazz told you as much as he could understand, but there is more behind what he had happen to him than _he_ is capable of both understanding and accepting."

Raevyn accepted this with a nod. They knew him so much better than she ever would. Ratchet began talking in his "lecture" tone, using Prime as a medical example. But first came a brief history lesson. "Optimus is the latest of a line of leaders. A Prime is essentially the leader of the people, speaker for them, and a guardian over the Allspark. Coincidentally, each Prime was Sparked with a brother, one who would be what you humans call the 'big stick'. That twin would be the one to organize the militaristic half of the population. All of those named Prime were specially chosen for their dedication to the population of Cybertron, their caring nature, and a peace-loving mind. Optimus is no exception to that rule."

This was where the medic began his Cybertronian technobiology lecture of the day. "Twin sets are unique among Cybertronians. A Spark is full and complete onto itself. If it splits into two during the Sparking process, it is automatic that one half will be peaceful and one half will be vengeful. Optimus and Megatron are . . . _were_ the perfect candidates to show to you as examples. A peaceful twin fights to protect, and will learn to fight in order to protect _only_ his twin and those that their twin is close to. A vengeful twin is one that fights sheerly for the love of fighting and antagonism." Pausing, he began to rest fingertips upon his leader's chest, where a collarbone would be for a human. "Fortunately for us all, we are sentient beings and have an aptitude for learning and for adaption. Now. All that leads up to this. You have seen schematics for all the other Autobots in our wave. Think upon the chest cavity, and how it is constructed."

"Upper chest, closer to the back than the front, has the Spark casing; lower chest has the main lubricant and fluid pumps," Raevyn replied automatically. "The exception is with Ironhide, who has the oldest design where the Spark casing and fluid pumps are in opposite locations than what is now the normal and most logical placement."

"Precisely. Now. This is where a Prime is different. Their location of the Spark is placed in the absolute center of their torso. Fluid pumps are above and behind the casing. Above and before it is something that is seen once or twice in a normal Autobot's lifetime." He patted the leader's shoulder firmly. "All right. Open up."

With a sigh of long-suffering, Optimus muttered something about centennial cleanings of places that need not be touched. With the sounds of what seemed to be an airlock opening up, the front layer of armor split open to either side. That action revealed a very odd-looking casing in his upper chest, the lower chest a wall of more armoring and the faint sounds of a Spark. Looking back up at the new-to-her odd case, Raevyn leaned a bit closer, eyeballing it with a gaze that Ratchet knew and admired. She was giving that case all her attention.

Optimus Prime also seemed to smile at the level of dedication to learning Raevyn possessed. He took over the "anatomy" lesson with his smooth, sometimes-bass, sometimes-baritone voice. "This is where I know more about my own build and design than Ratchet does. A Prime holds a physical link to what you may equate to your myths and accounts of heaven. But at the same time, it is not a direct link. It holds great power, great amounts of untapped energy. When a Prime is chosen, the Matrix of Leadership rebuilds their body to proportions as great as mine so as to be able to hold and control the constant energy that seeps out."

"And that Matrix is in this compartment."

"Yes."

"Why is it in such a vulnerable area?"

Unruffled, Ratchet pointed a finger at her lower abdomen. "Are you more concerned about being hit by a round of ammunition _here_ . . ." Raising his massive hand up, Ratchet pointed it at the dead center of her upper chest. "Or _here_? You humans have one of your most important organs within your chest. The other is in your head."

"Both are places I would not wish to be hit in," Raevyn agreed, seeing the logic in it after all. "Okay. So why are you telling me this?"

"_Always_ asking why, Sparkling. You never fail," Ratchet chuckled, shaking his head. "If I had wanted another little one to badger me with that question, I would have made a request _eons_ ago to Spark off." The tease was lighthearted, kind. "The reason behind this is ever in case you and Jazz have to safeguard the Matrix or Prime's Spark. I cannot always be around him, and while I am aware that you also have your limitations, once Sam has caught up to the point you are at, I will be showing him the same things. So that _he_ may know. Now. Stop me if you have any more questions. I need you to understand this _completely_ and totally, and that can only happen if you make me stop and explain things that are common knowledge to our kind, but foreign concepts to yours. Now. Prime. If you would?"

"I should charge you a fee for every time I open this blasted compartment . . ."

.o.O.o.

"Hey, babe?"

"Mm?"

"I have a question."

Having gone back to Massachusetts to begin construction upon the garage/detailing service/used car dealership that had been chosen to cover for the North-Eastern Seaboard Autobot base, then come back to California to do a bit more training, Raevyn and Jazz were alone, just watching the clouds. He had humiliating stories almost literally wired into his brain in case he had ever been separated from the rest of his wave. They would come to find him in order to keep their secrets and goof-ups buried and hidden. Most of these stories had a comical take upon them, even if it hadn't been an event that had warranted a single "ha" at the time. Most of those stories would actually have been embarrassing had those who had been present at the time were present now.

Like Trailbreaker, and the "Troublesome Twins" that had stayed under his command.

"What's the question, gorgeous?" came Raevyn's reply as she curled up against his warm metal side, eyes pointed upwards as she just watched the clouds fall apart, then come back together again.

"C'n you tell me th' truth about why ya haven't even taken on a casual lover?"

Raevyn thought about this for a long moment, then replied, her voice almost low, but very calm. "Jazz . . . every person is individual in their wants and needs in life."

"Yes . . ."

"My want is to have a lifelong partner in a spouse. I don't want to have a fling and then regret it."

"Not even for passion?"

"Passion can and will be suppressed until I wish for it to be _ex_pressed," came the grumble.

"So ya admit that it's there."

Pausing, Raevyn levered herself and shifted so that she stared at Jazz. He was asking odd questions of her. "What are you getting to?"

"Well . . . t' bottle passion or to bottle even a friendly passion ain't a good thing f'r Transformers. There's gotta be an outlet from time t' time. And that's no pun. You know as well as I do that th' anatomy differences between humans an' Transformers in the differentiation 'tween genders is _not_ parallel ta one another." That small outburst having been said, Jazz just paused again, then looked at Raevyn. "Ratchet gave ya our version of The Talk, right?"

"Strictly anatomical. He doesn't do well with the emotional stuff, I've noticed."

"Bingo. He's been one to keep his mouth shut about even if he's _ever_ just . . . you could call it something akin to 'snuggling.' But that's not why I'm asking you this."

"So then what _is_ the point, Jazz? You're beating around the bush."

"Ya feel . . . off to me. Like there's something I'm missing from translation and I can't figure out what it is."

Like she was going to tell him that she loved him. Really. "I don't know what to tell you, Jazz. You know better than anyone else right now that I've got a lot on my mind."

"Well, I know that, too, but it's like . . . Okay. Ratchet makes comments 'bout Sam's pheromone level t' annoy 'im. He makes Sam think that only _he_ can 'smell' it." Sighing, Jazz whispered, "We all can."

"Which means?"

"Which means I know that you're doin' a lotta suppression, babe."

"That's my life for ya," she replied oh-so-wittily, getting desperate to not have this talk with the bot who physically guarded her and allowed himself to have his emotions guarded by her.

Jazz, too, was getting flustered, and he sat up to look down at Raevyn. "Hawkeye, c'mon, ya know you can talk t' me 'bout anythin'. Is it because ya don' feel pretty 'nough, or--"

"_Don't_ play psychologist t' me about this issue, Jazz. I'm not tellin' you anythin' if you start that game." She pulled her hair back out of her face to wrap an elastic around, keeping it by the nape of her neck. "I know I've got looks. I know that I turn heads. Believe me, Jazz, I'm well aware of what's goin' on around me if I dress even normally, covering up skin."

"So then what is it?" he asked softly, trying to understand why it was that she was refusing even _blatant_ requests for her time. "It's not wrong to have relations in your culture. Hell, babe, in ours, the equivalent of what you're carefully _not_ doing is part of everyday bonding between close friends. Sometimes it got deeper than you thought it would, but even then, sometimes it was just enough."

"So then _you_ . . ."

"All the time! I mean, sure, it was between people who had absolute trust with each other, but at the same time . . . Hawkeye?"

She was staring at him, eyes beginning to well up in dual anger and sadness. "It's not even special to you."

"What, touchin'? Not anymore. It's special when you first start, but after a while, it's nothing to . . . touch someone's . . . Raevyn? Where are you . . . ?"

The door to the house slammed shut behind her, and Raevyn ran up to her room, closing the window so fast that it rattled the panes. She almost ripped the curtains from the wall in her attempt to close them, her eyes so blurred with tears that she could barely see her own hands.

Falling to her bed, she realized that they were just far too different than she had first thought.

And so her heart broke in that knowledge.


	5. Chapter Five

Generation Breakers: Imposition  
By Sinead

Chapter Five  
Relevant Song: Yuki Kajiura "Open Your Heart"

.o.O.o.

_**Author's Note:** Last chapter before the third story goes up! I'm sorry that I've been slow, I'm now living at my college, and have been absolutely going crazy in keeping up with classes and everything else that's involved with the college experience. I love it, it's mental, but it's all good. Third story is in the process of being written, I have three chapters that I have to edit, and will have all that done before the end of next week, I promise._

_ Thanks for all your patience! See you in the next story!  
_

.o.O.o.

Jazz was distraught. And a distraught Jazz was one that unnerved even Ironhide. It meant that something serious bad was going to happen, or was about to happen, and Jazz had no idea how to deal with the situation. That one who had a cool head even when he had been facing Megatron, up to when he had been killed, was almost to the point of panicking, well . . .

It didn't bode well.

Unable to stand still, Jazz clenched his hands, released them, then clenched them again in a rhythmic _clang-whoosh-clang-whoosh_ manner. He was pacing one step this way, four steps back, then two steps this way, and one step back . . .

Temper rising, Ratchet grabbed Jazz's shoulders, forcing him to not move. His firm tone was able to cut through the rising panic of the younger bot while his optics searched to gain contact with Jazz's. "Jazz! Calm yourself!"

"Can't!" he babbled in their native, electronic tongue, showing how truly distressed he was. "I did something wrong, I know it--"

"If you don't calm down, I'll ration your energon just enough to keep you able to run about in your alt mode. Am. I. Clear," Ratchet growled, lowering his face towards Jazz's.

This got through, and the silvery Autobot stopped trying to struggle free. But his expressions were still showing clearly upon his face. They were shaken, fearing that something truly awful had happened . . . He feared something so deeply, and now he was being faced with that fear.

"Now slowly. What do you think you did wrong?"

"Raevyn. I don't know what I did, but in the middle of a explaination I was giving, she just stared at me, then started crying and ran into her room and locked the door and won't answer me through the window and I don't know what I said wrong!" The babbling stream of barely modulated sounds were deciphered only by those who had been born into the Transformer race.

"What had you been talking about, Jazz?" Prime stepped closer, his face both serious and worried.

"I . . . nothing . . ." He had come back to speaking English, but hanging onto that thread of relative calm only barely.

"You're the last person I could think of that would speak about _nothing_," Ironhide said through a chuckle, sure that the little bot was panicking about something so insigificant that it only seemed like it was a huge problem. He'd seen it before in the younger Sparklings these days. They had a thing for panicking that he was _sure_ he had never gone through before.

"Guys, he might not have _had_ to say anything. Trust me on that one." Sam walked up to the group, having just arrived from his parents' house with edible goodies that they always sent over when they got wind of Raevyn even _planning_ to come over. Judy just adored the girl, much to everyone's wonder. They had arrived unnoticed thanks to the brouhaha Jazz was kicking up. "Bee, thanks for the ride."

A thumb's-up and the second-smallest Autobot set the spoils of spoiling down upon a table outside the back door. It was only two grocery bags, and there was a spare fridge they could be tossed into and sorted through later. The sunny Autobot then walked over to Jazz, roughly biffing his smaller friend's shoulder as a way of saying, "Suck it up, you pansy. You're fine."

Grinning at the look of "did you just scratch the paint job?" that Jazz was wearing upon his face, Sam took that opportunity to pick the bags up and put them where they belonged before daring to glance at the stairs. Walking over and pausing to listen, all he heard was the soft sounds of someone crying. He knew in his heart of hearts that he was the only person who really could do anything about it. She wouldn't come out of her room in such a state, and he was the only one who could get in there.

Walking silently up the stairs, he knelt before her door, pulling his wallet from his back pocket to shake out a few lockpicking tools that were hidden in the spine. The one thing that was his redeeming key, no pun intended, into Ratchet's good graces was that he could pick locks fairly quickly, showing that he had a grasp of a mechanical nature in him, even if it expressed itself in a small, odd way.

Finishing, letting the door swing open, he looked up from where he had been staring at the ground, feeling his way through the lock by touch alone, to gaze upon the back of Raevyn's 1980's punk band t-shirt. She was on her bed, curled away from the door. She had shut Jazz out from her by closing both window and shades, making the room stuffy. Propping a book in the doorframe, Sam made sure that the door would always be open by at least three inches, exchanging stuffy air for fresh.

"Raevyn?"

No answer from her, only more sobs.

Entering the room, Sam sat upon the edge of her bed softly, resting his hand upon her shoulder. "Wassa matter, Hawkeye?"

"Y-you _know_ . . . what it is," she managed to get out around her sobs. "Sam, you know better than _anyone_ . . ."

Sighing, he leaned over her to wrap his arms around her shoulders, pulling the crying young woman into his lap effortlessly. While his frame didn't show it, he worked out, and the effect was that now it was simple for him to perform such a maneuver. He gently stroked the hair away from her wet cheeks, absolutely loathe to see it sticking there. "What did he say?"

"Just . . . _stuff_ . . . an-and . . ." Her voice broke, and she whispered, "Sam, it hurts."

"I know . . . I know . . ." Unable to come up with anything else to say that would comfort her, Sam had the feeling that if he made one wrong move, she would literally hurt him in some physical way.

And yet that didn't stop her from talking to _him_. "Is it wrong? To cry?"

"Why should it be?" he replied, remembering a night not too long ago where their roles had been reversed. He lowered his head closer to hers, whispering, "It's what heartbreak is."

"Y-yeah . . . yeah, it is. C-could you stay a while?"

Nodding, Sam whispered, "Yeah. You bet."

What man in his right mind would leave a beautiful woman alone when she was in such a state? It made them feel like the white knight in shining armor . . . Well, until the lady changed the rules on them again. But the feeling like being the big, manly rescuer felt _so_ good that when the opportunity presented itself, a true man had to take it, no matter if the damsel was a friend or a lover. He just _had_ to take the chance on her.

Sam kept his hand running through her hair. After a while, the sobs petered out, and when he opened his eyes from just resting them shut for a while, the younger mechanic saw that she had fallen asleep with her arms still holding onto his waist.

Gazing down on her with a soft expression that he didn't know that had never been seen upon his face before, Sam Witwicky wished with all his might that it had been him that she was crying about.

.o.O.o.

As soon as he had stepped out into the bright afternoon light, Sam found himself pounced upon by Jazz. He wasn't touched by the metal being, but he wasn't able to move what with the gleaming Autobot looming over him. "What d'you know about my girl that _I_ don't know?! I heard you in there; everyone heard."

Bumblebee and Ironhide looked harassed, leaving Prime to watch in an odd sort of amusement at what was unfolding before him. He wasn't worried about this, and had seen situations like this particular one rise up before. Conflict was essential to forge firmer bonds in life. Ratchet had long since left the spectacle to do other things with his time.

Sam exchanged a look with his guardian that asked Bumblebee to hold onto his patience for just a moment longer. Bumblebee knew about Raevyn's predicament, and for some reason that had mystified his human for a moment. When Sam asked about it, he found out that the Transformers had been the sister-species of a long-living organic race that grew to be an even eighteen feet tall, without exception. The two species worked together upon many projects, even trying to study the Allspark with scientists of both races.

One of their member, a female with a name only Bumblebee could pronounce correctly, had been sent as a member of the guard for the leader of their kind. After that leader had left, she stayed upon Cybertron, fascinated with the occupants of the small globe and their culture. She had been there for so long that when Bumblebee, new to the guard detatchment force, had made a few mistakes, she was able to correct the problems within days, becoming his mentor. After too many years to begin to count, they shifted from "teacher and student" to best of friends, close to what Bumblebee had equated to a pre-marriage couple. But it was friendship, an intellectual compatibility that bound them, even if both wished it were possible that it could have been more that just that.

Sam shook his head, clearing it. "Jazz, I can't tell you. It's a secret I have to keep for Raevyn. Even then, she's the only one who can let it out of the box when she's ready to share it. Is that fair, man?"

Pausing, processing this, Jazz looked up at the house. "Well, then I'll ask 'er now."

"Not advisable," Ironhide said as he looked down at his smaller friend. "She's currently rechargin', an' I don' feel like dealin' with an irritable femme." What Ironhide didn't mention was that Ratchet was upon the other side of the house, relaying to his friend that Jazz should go and drive off his agitation. Once he came back, he should wait to see if Raevyn was awake, letting her come back out from what she obviously considered to be a safe haven. Ironhide considered being the one to tell Jazz what to do, thought better of it, then handed off all the information he had recieved from Ratchet to Optimus. Within nanoseconds, the leader acted upon the sound advice, basically ordering Jazz to talk off and to come back only when he was calm.

Convincing the little Autobot to do so, however, was a totally different matter.

.o.O.o.

Later that evening, Raevyn awoke to hear Ratchet speaking softy outside her window. His voice was punctuated by Sam talking back, verbally taking a quiz that she remembered taking not too long ago. The sounds of Ironhide and Bumblebee sparring lightly was carried over by the breeze, the rough curses running smoothly from Ironhide's old mouth. Smiling at the inventive ones, such as something having to do with Bumblebee's reversed polarities or whatnot, Raevyn stretched, feeling oddly detatched from her emotions. She felt . . . fresh, renewed. Yes, those where the words.

"You didn't listen to that lesson, did you? Score is a sixty-five, and we will review your wrong answers later," Ratchet groused. His hand pushed aside the curtains of Raevyn's window, looking into the second-floor room. He had known the exact moment she had awoken, having been monitoring her bio-signs carefully. Lowering his voice to an affectionate growl, he asked, "Did you rest well?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Optimus and Jazz are out working some steam off, racing in the desert. They'll get so much sand in their system that it will take a year for it to all work free." Ratchet made a face, then shook his head. "Jazz is truly upset about how you will not tell him something. I feel it has to do with the fact that you and he are completely open with each other, and this is the first time that you wish to hide something."

"I . . . Ratch, I can't tell him yet," came the soft, sad reply. She rubbed at her face, sitting in the open bay window and leaning against the frame, letting one leg fall free outside. "I don't know how to tell him."

"And when you do know what to say, _will_ you tell him?"

"Yes. Soon. I hope."

"That that is enough for now." Smiling, he moved his head to glare at the dueling bots when screeching metal rent the air, followed by bellows of indignation and semi-rage. Ratchet sighed. "Raevyn, your turn to fix Ironhide."

"Sure, but you get to hold him down, this time!"

.o.O.o.

Bumblebee helped Ironhide limp over, worry dancing around his optics. But as soon as he saw Raevyn finishing a braid in her hair and then tying it up in a bun, both brightened considerably. She wrapped a bandana around her head as well, to keep all her hair back and out of the way. Ironhide cracked a grin. "Good! I thought that I'd only have Ratchet to bark at me."

"Set him down, Bumbles, dear," came the grinning reply. "What did you do to him, you menace?"

"_Him_?! He wrenched my bad hip out of place again, _that's_ what!"

"Oh, stow it, old man. Once I get this fixed, you can go back to the park and play chess with Ratchet."

". . . that was mean."

Raevyn looked up to see Jazz behind her, grinning tentatively. At her nod of greeting, he sat back to watch the spectacle of Raevyn getting her hands into Ironhide's jury-rigged and fallible right hip. Halfway through, old warrior snarled that Ratchet should have been the one to fix the injured joint, until Raevyn grabbed _some_ odd part of his inner workings, which caused the old wardog to groan in pain or something, then mutter, "I give. Just fix me."

"Yeap. 'S right," crowed Raevyn. "Does that answer your question as to how knowledgeable I am to your personal anatomy? Or will I have to do something else?"

"No! No . . . 'M good . . ." Raising a hand to his head, Ironhide muttered, "I'm gettin' too old for this slag . . ."

.o.O.o.

Raevyn was in her borrowed bedroom, pouring over her laptop in an effort to take what Ratchet saw her do, record it, and then upload it upon the portable computer. It was a collaboration between them in order to make a sort of "user's manual" or procedural handbook for any other humans who would be coming to join the crew. Maybe. Either way, it was an easy and good way for Raevyn to truly memorize what she had done. She especially learned with Ratchet's commentary upon the different actions she had done, sometimes for good, sometimes for critiquing. The manuscript had pictorial references, taken straight from Ratchet's memory banks, and they were beginning to plan a computer program equivalent so that one could watch actual real-time procedures.

The medic-in-training was so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice Jazz appear at her window. He watched her, wanting to know everything about her, but knew that it wasn't possible unless she told him. So he was at a standstill. Partners were supposed to be able to tell each other _every_ little thing, whether it be for good or if it was something that hurt. Transformer partners were close, almost as close as a life-mate, and having had a Transformer partner before, Jazz knew how it was supposed to feel.

But it wasn't the same with a human partner.

Bumblebee had it easy. Sam fell into the category of a younger sibling of sorts, and to the Camaro, Raevyn also fell into that category. They were there to be taught, and to be teased as only elder siblings are able to tease the younger. To Ratchet, they were students, and while one was a nephew, the other was closer to being a daughter to the medic. Ironhide looked upon them as Sparklings who needed to be shown how to do things in life, and patiently did so. He was close friends with his own human partner, Lennox, in the way that two military men often were. What caused Bumblebee and Jazz to poke fun at the old wardog was that he often melted when Lennox's little daughter did something new. He couldn't resist protecting the infant, not wanting her to be hurt in any way.

Prime looked upon them _all_ equally, but as to what he viewed them as, nobody had the guts to ask him yet.

This thinking wasn't getting Jazz anywhere. All he knew was that Raevyn wasn't exactly a little sister kind of partner to him.

"Hey, babe? Wanna joyride?"

Turning to look at him, Raevyn watched his face for a moment before smiling shyly and nodding. She saved the work she had done with the press of a button and ran down the stairs to grab her zipper-up sweatshirt as she ran out the door of the house. Breezing by Sam and Bumblebee, who were lazing around watching Optimus and Ironhide argue over a few points that should or shouldn't be in their meeting with the government officials, she got into the Jazzman's driver's seat, pulling the door closed after her.

The partners looked to each other as she took off, and Bumblebee quickly asked Jazz if it was okay to follow him. When asked why, the Camaro just replied that it was a hell of a lot better than sitting around watching Prime and 'Hide arguing. Getting his answer, Bumblebee transformed and opened the door for his human partner. "_We're_ following _them_ for once."

"Why?"

Bumblebee considered his answer so very carefully before replying. "Humans say that they have bad feelings about some things. Right now, I've got that kind of feeling."

"And if it's wrong?"

"Then we come back here and set up a bonfire. You promised to show us how to do it from scratch, no ammunition."

"Yeah, _that_ was a fun experience."

"I _did_ say that I was sorry!"

.o.O.o.

They came out upon a secluded, deserted of all human life. Scanning again just to make sure, Jazz opened his door, waiting until Raevyn was out before transforming and sitting upon an outcropping of bedrock. "Babe . . . can you tell me what I said wrong earlier today?"

She knew that this had been coming, and she knew that it was something that had to come up. At least he had brought her out somewhere that she knew how to walk home, if need be, and somewhere that they were alone. Finally, she was at peace with herself and what she knew that she had to do. "I'll tell you. But you have to promise to listen calmly."

That wasn't what he had expected, and it only fueled his barely-contained panic. "I promise."

Turning to face him, Raevyn looked up at his face, then sighed and whispered, "The reason why I've said no to all those guys, and to everyone else, is because I love you. And I know that it could never happen between us, and that it would be wrong to try."

Oh. _Oh._ Ohdamn.

Stunned silent, Jazz let his gaze drift over her lightly, then settle back upon her face. He saw the panic that she was starting to feel rise up over her face, and he held his hand out. "Babe, c'mere?"

She did so, albeit slowly. He picked her up to rest against his chest, staring at her face for another moment before speaking again. "Hawkeye, why d'you think that I wanted you to have a love-friend? I was teasin' ya a lot 'cause I had the feelin' that you might've been processin' somethin' like that."

"And then you went on about all that--"

"Oh, darlin', it's a cultural difference. Touchin' a friend's Spark chamber is like havin' a deep chat with 'em. Unless it gets deeper. I was playin' it off lightly because I didn't want you to start thinkin' that it was something as deep as your human lovemakin'. Which it really ain't, y'know?" He stroked a fingertip across her cheek in the same manner that Bumblebee had, all those months ago when they had first met.

"So . . . you an' me could never . . ."

"Baby, I will _always_ be here for you. And I'll always be here when you need me to be." Jazz sighed, stroking a gentle finger along her hair. "I just wish that you were Sparked, not born human."

"I do too," came the soft whisper. "Then there'd at least be the chance to see if we could have ever . . . y'know . . . been."

"I know, baby." He was aware of Bumblebee and Sam creeping up behind them, their steps soft and sure, but not wanting to intrude upon the quiet talk. "So you were upset that it wasn't special for me anymore."

"Yeah . . ."

"I didn't get a chance finish, Hawkeye." Smiling down at her, he took a deep breath and continued. "Casually, no, it ain't special anymore. But b'tween two o' my kind who love each other an' who want t' be with each other until we return to the Matrix, well . . . I've heard that they have to calculate a recovery time into any time they want alone."

"You mean . . ."

"Hah, a partier like me settle down at my 'young' age an' at the place I'm at in my career? Not likely that I've had that experience. Still haven't found th' one for me yet." _Oh, but I have, though_, Jazz thought as he watched her process that. _But to tell her would be to distress her far beyond anything that could have ever happened to her up to this point in her young life._ "So . . . you know that I'd be more than all right with you enjoying time with a companion of sorts."

"If you don't stop trying to foist guys off on me, I'll do something drastic to you the next time you need maintenance."

"Not just any guy!" Jazz defended himself laughingly. His voice dropped suddenly, going softer. "Just f'r one."

Raevyn pressed her cheek to his chest. "Sam, huh?"

"Yeah . . . you'd both be good for each other." Jazz knew that she needed to just be with someone, not waste away for a love that could never be. The Autobot had ways of dealing with his problem of a need for companionship; Raevyn did as well, but just needed encouragement to take that path.

"How long have you and Bumblebee been plotting this?" Without much warning, she heard his Spark's beating within his chest. Smiling, she relaxed with the sound, resting her ear as close as it could get to his frame.

"A while, now."

Silence descended between them before Jazz looked up suddenly, seeing Bumblebee less than twenty feet away with Sam perched upon his shoulder. Raevyn also looked up at the pair, then waved them over to join her and her partner upon the bedrock. When Bumblebee sat beside Jazz, Sam looked down at Raevyn, only to find that she was watching him in return, her gaze steady . . . and different from before. Bumblebee made a gesture, nonhuman from the precise and twitching nature it held. Whatever it meant, it caused Jazz to laugh uproariously . "Oh, I'm sure she'll use much more discretion than that!"

"Down. Jazz, lemme down. Bumbles, I'm gonna hurt you for whatever you said, and stop signing stuff to Jazz! It's not easy climbing down when your foothold suddenly disappears because he's laughing!" Finally getting to the ground, she yawned, stalking a few feet away to sit upon lush green grass.

Within moments, Sam joined her as she sat looking out over the lake they were in front of, the setting sun painting the water a fiery red. After a while of carefully watching her while pretending be watching the sky and listening to the Autobots, he looked at Raevyn with all his attention. "Hey . . . you doing all right?"

"Yeah . . . or will be."

Sam scooted over so that his arm was just barely resting against hers, only to be surprised as she leaned into his direction at the same time. Half an hour later, she was asleep, and was about to slip down onto his chest. He held his arm around her back, careful to not let it rise above mid-rib level, nor go down to her hips. There was such a thing as pushing his limits. She was still so very exhausted from the day's events, starting with Ratchet's lessons, then the blowout with Jazz, to Ironhide getting his hip repaired again, and ending with an emotionally exhausting talk with her partner.

"Guys . . ."

"Yeah, Sam, we know," Jazz chuckled, using Bumblebee's leg to lever himself up to a standing position before walking over, optics smiling and the visor flicking upwards. "Damn girl's too cute f'r words right now . . ."

Bumblebee walked over and transformed almost all the way, carefully keeping his roof open. "Let's get her home."

Jazz plucked her off of Sam with careful movements, indicating with a jerk of his chin that the young man get in first. "Backseat. You'll keep her from fallin' all over the place."

Doing so, Sam looked up just in time to have the young woman's back, shoulders, and head carefully rested against him, her hips and legs upon the seat. Sighing in her sleep, Raevyn settled against him, curling towards his body heat. Sam just watched her face in the moonlight, until the roof finished transforming over them.

Bumblebee's holographic form flickered to life behind the wheel, depicting a smooth-looking man in his mid-twenties with a golden tan and inky black hair slicked back. Jazz took that moment to transform, settling down beside Bumblebee with purr of his engine, their driver doors inches from each other. The light bounced around the leather-lined interior, resulting in a hologram of a mid-thirties African-American man, his thin face kind, honey-brown eyes warm as he "looked" at Bumblebee, making eye contact. The electric-blue eyes of the younger Autobot were charged with life and happiness that things were beginning to work out. Yet the Camaro knew that he couldn't act out.

For now. Perhaps once the humans were asleep, however . . .

He needed to take a ride.


End file.
